THE BETRAYAL- A Shadow Over Skyer hold.

 A sliver of golden sunlight nudged its way through a gap in the heavy drapes, painting a warm stripe across Amara's face. She cracked open one eye, and a piercing blue iris blinked against the sudden light. Shrouded by a cascade of raven black hair, the other eye couldn't get such privileges. 

With a soft sigh, she stretched, the simple white nightgown clinging to her agile frame. Kylea, her ever-present shadow, materialized beside the bed, a gentle smile gracing her youthful features.

"Good morning, My Lady," Kylea chirped, her voice laced with a barely suppressed excitement. "Today's the day!"

 Amara sat up, her gaze flickering to the ornately framed portrait hanging above the fireplace. It depicted her parents, the Duke and Duchess, their faces radiating unique warmth and love. A pang of longing shot through her. She then turned back to Kylea, her voice tight with a mixture of apprehension and determination. "Is everything prepared for the ceremony?"

Kylea's smile faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered. "Absolutely, My Lady. The grand hall has been decorated to perfection, and the kitchens are overflowing with enough delicacies to feed a small army." She bustled around the room, picking up discarded clothes, and laid out a breathtaking gown on the bed.

 The gown was a stunning creation, a perfect embodiment of Amara's dual nature. The bodice hugged her slender form comfortably and was crafted from a cool, verdant green fabric that shimmered with a sheen of emeralds. 

The skirt, on the other hand, was a cascade of pristine white silk, flowing outward in graceful waves. It whispered of elegance and refinement, a testament to Amara's poise and upbringing. The two colors, green and white, intertwined seamlessly, symbolizing the strength and resilience that lay beneath her serene exterior.

As Kylea helped Amara dress, a comfortable silence settled between them. It wasn't a silence of awkwardness, but rather one of unspoken understanding. Despite her youthful appearance, Amara shouldered the responsibilities of managing the Duchy in her father's absence. The weight of that responsibility often shadowed her bright spirit.

"The tension in the house is thick enough to cut with a knife," Kylea finally spoke up, her voice barely audible.

Amara sighed, a flicker of worry crossing her features. "I know. The negotiations with the Western territories haven't been going well, and tensions with the Eastern Barony are at an all-time high."

"Do you think your brother will handle it?" Kylea asked hesitantly.

 Amara paused, a mix of emotions swirling in her one visible eye. Her brother, always overshadowed by her own competence, had recently begun to assert himself. While she welcomed his newfound initiative, a sliver of doubt gnawed at her.

"He seems…motivated," Amara finally replied, her voice laced with uncertainty. "But motivation doesn't equate to experience."

 Kylea offered a small, sympathetic smile. "Perhaps today's ceremony will be a turning point. A chance for him to truly step up and take on his duties as heir."

 Amara forced a smile, but a knot of unease tightened in her stomach. This ceremony, her brother's official coming of age, marked a significant shift in power dynamics within the Duchy. While details were scarce, rumors swirled about an important speech he would deliver. A speech that would undoubtedly impact the Duchy's future.

 As Kylea finished arranging the last tendril of hair, Amara rose, her emerald gown whispering against the floor. She took a deep breath, her worry focused on the well-being of her family and their lands. There would be time for greetings and diplomacy later. For now, her priority was ensuring a smooth ceremony and a successful outcome to the ongoing negotiations as she aimed to have a handover with no regrets. With a determined glint in her eye, she headed out of her chambers, ready to face whatever challenges the day might bring.

 The grand hall buzzed with frenetic activity. Servants scurried about under Amara's watchful eye. With a practiced hand, she adjusted a tapestry that hung slightly askew, her attention to detail a hallmark of her leadership.

"Head Steward, ensure the delegations from the West are seated near the stage," she instructed, her voice firm yet polite. "We need to foster a spirit of collaboration after the recent…disagreements."

 The Head Steward, a portly man with a perpetually worried frown, bowed. "Of course, My Lady. And the Eastern Baron? Should he be seated at a distance again?"

 Amara's lips thinned. The Baron, a notoriously belligerent man, had been a thorn in their side for years. "No," she decided. "Seat him near the Southern Duchess. Perhaps they can find common ground over their love of falconry."

 As the day wore on, Amara transformed into a gracious hostess. She greeted guests with a welcoming smile and engaged in light conversation, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth. When Lord Weston, the leader of the Western delegation, approached with a forced grin, she offered a placatory gesture.

"Lord Weston," Amara said, her voice cool but civil, "it's a pleasure to have you here today. I trust the journey wasn't too arduous?"

Lord Weston chuckled, the sound devoid of humor. "The journey was manageable, My Lady. Though perhaps less…pleasant…than it could have been."

 Amara pressed her lips together, sensing a veiled accusation regarding the stalled negotiations. She deftly steered the conversation towards more neutral topics, a skill honed from years of managing her household.

 Later, as Baron Vargas, the Eastern curmudgeon, bellowed about a recent sheep-stealing incident (most likely fabricated), Amara managed a patient smile. She subtly nudged the Southern Duchess towards him, hoping their shared passion for falconry would provide a much-needed distraction.

 Finally, the moment arrived for the welcoming speech. Her brother, Edgar, adjusted his gilded cuffs nervously, his youthful face flushed with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Amara squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before he took the stage.

 A hush fell over the crowd as Edgar cleared his throat. He began with a well-rehearsed preamble about unity and strength, for which a proud and relieved look could be seen from Amara's eye.

"Our beloved father," Edgar proclaimed, "His absence casts a long shadow over Skyhold. We all miss his wisdom and guidance in these trying times."

 A murmur of sympathy rippled through the crowd. Amara, despite the mixed emotions swirling within her, offered a small, sad smile. Edgar, though the youngest son, had been designated heir after Amara relinquished the title as a courtesy to their stepmother, whose sole purpose in the marriage had been to secure an heir. What Amara's mother failed to do for years.

 While she had never regretted her decision, it did sting to see Edgar, who had previously shown little to no remorse for their father's disappearance, now showing an exaggerated feeling of sorrow. However, Edgar beginning to take his role more seriously in recent months, felt like a reward to her persistent encouragement.

 "However," Edgar continued, his voice taking on a more confident tone, "fear not! The Skyer legacy shall not falter. As his only son, I'll take on the mantle of leadership with a heavy heart, but a resolute spirit." He shot a glance at Amara, but this time it lacked the pointedness of before.

 "Furthermore," Edgar declared, his voice ringing through the hall, "to solidify our alliances and ensure the stability of Skyhold, we have arranged a…union…for my dear sister, Amara, and also thank her for all her work and effort made for the Skyer hold."

 A collective gasp resonated through the guests followed by murmurs and Amara was no different. Although she was promised to the third prince, it wasn't supposed to be publicized until the announcement of the crown prince. This was so as not to break the unwritten rule that no duke's dom is to participate in the crown prince selection process.

 "Through this union," Edgar shouted, and with the audience's attention he followed "we expect to grow the unity within the Skyer territory and form a stronger alliance for our future ambitions".

 "That's why I would like to welcome Count Morci to the stage to give a speech in honor of our future...union." A dead silence ran through the crowd.

 Although Morgans County is the biggest miner of the south and holds significant power in the kingdom comparable to many Earl and Marquis households, the king never gave them more power due to the numerous 'incidents' involving them or their members. It wasn't just their reputation, even the age differences were clear just by looking at the parties involved.

Amara's face turned stone cold, but she quickly relaxed "Here I thought he finally grew up. Is this one of those bad jokes of his?" she thought, giving a long sigh and shaking her head " He will be in one hell of a beating for making something like this. It's way too absurd, even for-" she stopped as her eye landed on a count Morci moving towards the stage. At this point, a cold chill ran through her spin and her mind went blank.

IT WAS REAL!